


Flawed Design

by o0SongAndSilence0o



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 18:40:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6577978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o0SongAndSilence0o/pseuds/o0SongAndSilence0o
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The haunting events of Redcliffe remain as close to Vesryn Lavellan as his own skin. The experience left him isolated from those he called friends. All except one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Be My Escape

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreabean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreabean/gifts).



> Made at the request (kindof) of the lovely and talented dreabean. I have her linked here for anyone interested in checking her work out.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trauma can easily shatter a mind, causing it to begin cannibalizing itself. It takes great courage to stand by someone without faltering in order for them to retain themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly only adding this so that there's some consistency between the layout of both current chapters.   
> OCD? Me? Maybe a little...

I had heard of those who returned from captivity or battle being broken within their minds. Where a part of them became shattered; conjuring fears from thin air. I had heard the sudden shrieks in the night of those afflicted, and been kept awake by them at times.

  
Before the attack on the Temple, I was still no stranger to grief.As but a small child, I witnessed one of our halla being put down after a wolf tore through her belly. Thinking of it, I could still smell the stench of her torn entrails and hear her weakening cries.

  
We had stumbled upone deserted battlefields while travelling. Ravens wrenched eyes from their sockets, and the foul odor of the dead hung over the earth in an almost palpable blanket. I was thankful for not having eaten that morning. Others weren't so lucky.

  
And just the summer before, I had lost my eldest sister in childbirth. Two excruciating days of labor, but when the child finally breached her body, it was with his tiny feet instead. Once she fell unconscious, we were unable to wake her. The cloth that would have been the babe's swaddling became his shroud.

  
Yet, with that and more, never had I thought I would be one of them. At least, until I returned from Redcliffe. It was days before I would sleep under one of the shemlen roofs, preferring to nestle myself against the trunk of one of the surrounding trees along the perimeter of Haven.

  
They had all died. Right in front of me. I watched as these people, such wonderful people, were struck down before me. Worst of all was that those sacrifices had been for the sake of my survival. I had known when arriving in Redcliffe that there was a tremendous weight on my shoulders.

  
After that, though...after seeing with my own eyes what would become of my companions as well as other innocents, that weight began crushing me. At times, it would squeeze so tightly that I could scarcely draw breath. Others, the pressure was more gradual, like the cranking of a wheel that drew me beneath the horse blanket I slept with, unable to move.

  
I knew they needed me. Needed my help. But how could I explain to them the atrocities I had witnessed? How long would it be, I had wondered, before I could look upon their faces and not see those horrors superimposed over their living features?

  
They could not possibly understand. But he could.

  
Vint. Apostate. Blasphemer.

  
Of course they could say such things. Cassandra didn't know how tightly he gripped my arm when her mangled corpse was slung into the throne room. Iron Bull couldn't know that the lilting songs he sung over cups of ale drowned out the gurgling, blood choked final gasp of the strong qunari. And Leliana...who else knew that the feel of his hand clasped around mine was all that grounded me as I remembered her eyes locked onto my own as she was torn apart.

He was my reality when I could not distinguish it from the nightmares.

And in the end, it was Dorian who finally coaxed me back into the hut I was supposed to call "home". Out from the bitter nights and to the warm hearth. And with every patient word, every crackle of those flames, my fear began to abate.

I was told stories and fables from Tevinter, learned jokes and songs native to the land. And, in time, began to share some of my own. Legends passed down from our keepers, and even some effort was made in teaching the other mage some of my native tongue, which his inquisitive mind found fascinating.

Over the few moons it took for me to so much as venture from the safe place that the small building had become to me, his presence made it bearable. None but us truly knew or felt what had been experienced in Redcliffe. Perhaps it was meant to be so.

I did not misinterpret when the comforting arms about me as I sobbed held on longer than necessary. Or when a smile felt warmer than simple kindness required. And while I did not openly acknowledge it, never were the gestures refused. The heartbreak wrought from that abysmal castle forged a tie between Dorian and myself; one that I could not afford to break.

Even with all of that, the last crack in the shell that held my healing mind together was thinking of Deshanna. She had sent her First on an important task. One that turned out becoming far more than any could imagine. And at that moment, it was as though she was there with me still.

"Tel'enfenim, da'len. Let this not be your undoing, but wield it as your strength."


	2. Practice Makes Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Healing cannot be forced, though the right push can expediate the process greatly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must have rewritten this a dozen times from scratch, only to find myself being 400 words into both chapter 2 AND 3. So, that one should arrive tonight or tomorrow I think.

_Vast fields,stretching into eternity. The spring blooms had not fully lifted their heads, though the soft aroma was carried in the wind like a soft whisper. Gentle sunlight warmed my face, but a voice called my attention and brought my gaze away from the sky._

_Hair flowing red as fresh-drawn blood, and eyes that shamed the silver of the moon. Long had her beauty weakened my knees, only to find later she did not believe it was so. Her smile, brighter than all the stars, and arms reaching out for me. Long had we cared for one another, and though we both knew we would in time meet our vhenans, it did not tarnish the joy brought by each other's company.  
_

_Leytha..._

 

It could not have been much later than sunrise when I heard the door to my small hut creak open, rousing me from my dreams. My heart ached for a moment to slip back into unconsciousness. To feel her touch once more.

Perceptive of such things by my upbringing in the clan, I was already sitting up in bed with one hand on my staff by the time the intruder shut the door behind them.

"No no! It's just me, Vesryn." the familiar, accent-touched voice said in the darkness.

Immediately, I lowered my staff and swung my legs over the side of the bed, beginning to dress. 

"What are you doing here?" I glanced out the window as I stepped towards him. "We should both still be in bed, you know."

His grin could be seen in the dim light. "As tempting a thought, you should come outside with me. Just for a little while."

 

The idea of leaving made my gut tie up in painful knots. I had become so much better in recent days, but my reflexes had not yet caught up. Dorian had begun pressing me lately to take baby steps in acclimating myself to the world again. A walk to the gate and back each day had made improvement which was noticeable, at least to the two of us. I still could not face Cassandra and Leliana, though my faithful friend promised that it would soon follow.

Swallowing my desire to crawl back into the bed, when he extended his hand, I took it.

 

Weaving through the still sleeping Haven, we slipped over the wall towards the back of the town. Admittedly, following him as we darted through the trees, the feeling of fresh snow crunching beneath my bare feet and the heady smell of pine filling my nose, those knots began to loosen.

We stopped just as the trees began to thin, exposing a gentle rise that overlooked the lazily rising sun. Moving ahead of the human man, I took some more steps before sitting on the crest of the hill.

I did not realize, at first, when Dorian nestled himself into the snow beside me. Raising a hand, I laid it over one of his and threaded my fingers between the other man's.

He had been so painfully patient with me, never once asking for anything in return.

When I could swear I was literally falling apart, he held onto me until it passed. When I'd go days without eating, he was the one to force just one more spoon of broth between my lips.

Likely, it was just because I refused to let my defenses down for anyone else, but it truly felt as though he was the only one to care enough. And to bring me here? To think a shem could understand what this meant. While the closed walls of the house in Haven would keep me safer than I'd have been otherwise, Dorian also seemed to grasp the importance that feeling the natural world had in me.

He had worked his way into a special place for me, in this time. Whatever that would mean as we went forward, I could only guess. My life had been forever changed, and to the people of my clan, I knew I would not be recognized any longer. My affections to her would mean little if I embraced her as a stranger.

 

That almost villainous smile again crossed my companion's features. "Oh, Herald. What would Andraste think if she could see you now?" He jested, giving a gentle squeeze to our joined hands.

"I think," I offered with a soft laugh, "That her opinion matters little to me."  
  


We remained there in silence for some time, the quiet reflection only broken as the morning was fully born. Perhaps there would always be a broken part of me. Perhaps I would never entirely recover. But I had to try.

There were people who counted on me, people who did not want to see me dissolve myself in this fear and misery.

Hiding behind thick walls, physical or mental, would not protect those I cared for. No amount of retreating would stop those horrors from becoming reality.

 

"It's time to seal the breach."


	3. War of Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The breach has been sealed, but a sinking feeling rested in the Herald's gut. This wasn't over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Here it is. -collapses-

"Well, do you?" the question seemingly came from nowhere. It was only then I had realized I'd drifted off in though.

Snapping back to reality, I responded in embarrassment "Hm? Oh. Come again?"

Chuckling, obviously amused, Dorian took another sip of his brandy, leaning on the railing overlooking the road below. Milling down there were the gleeful citizens of Haven. It seemed that the drinking and dancing would last well into the night.

And for good reason. The breach, the embodiment of fear for all who could see it, was closed at last. And though it seemed that Dorian and I were the only ones concerned about the mentioning of an Elder One, perhaps this had put an end to that as well.

"Do you think you'll return to your clan now that all of this" he waved his free hand about him, "is over?"

 

It may seem bizarre, but it had been quite some time since I had thought about going home. It seemed that every time I thought I understood the situation, something more was added to the looming threat, and so...I just set that desire aside.

"But is this really over, Dorian?" moving up next to him, I too focused my eyes on the merriment further down for a moment before looking back at the other mage to continue. "This was just..."

"Too easy?" he finished for me, my answer being a nod. "Indeed, you are not the only one waiting for the other boot to drop. But can you not let yourself enjoy even this victory?"

 

He was right. I had crawled my way back from my own recent disabilities. Bitten them back when they threatened to overtake me. And now to see the fruits of said effort? It was right to enjoy the night, as another may not come for some time.  
  
"Dorian, I think-" he stopped me with a caramel colored finger to my lips.

"You think too much." the magister's son interrupted. As he leaned towards me, it was a moment before I processed what was about to happen. I could smell the brandy on his breath; a sweet honeyed scent that was more welcome than not. My eyes no sooner closed than a thunderous beating echoed from the gate, coming from the outside.  
  
Startled, we pulled away from one another and I caught the glint of annoyance in his eyes before we both rushed to learn the source of the noise. As we made for the heavy, wooden gateway, I saw lights flaring up over the not-too-distant mountainside. An army? A quick glance to Dorian confirmed we were suspecting the same thing.  
  
Could this be that Elder One we heard of?  
  
The wood heaved and a bright glow intruded from the gap between it and the earth as we approached, causing me to jump back a step.

  
  
"I can't come in unless you open!" a small and pleading voice called from the other side. It could have been a soldier, demon, or abomination behind it, but somehow I knew it was not. Something in me screamed that the voice belonged to a friend.  
  
Throwing the gate open, I was nearly struck by the collapsing body of a figure clad in armor. There was an intense red glow about the deceased man that, at the time, I dismissed for favor of the slight boy in a wide-brimmed hat who stood before me.  
  
Whatever the boy had to say, Cullen took care of. My attention was focused on a hilltop overlooking Haven. Upon it stood a grotesque creature alongside an unfamiliar man. It mattered not what the boy said.

I knew exactly who it was.

 

For a while after, the world around me was a blur. So many people fell while we tried defending the catapults. In the end, it seemed to do horrifyingly little to slow the onslaught until a well-aimed shot struck the mountain, causing a landslide that swept up many of our attackers. A moment of rejoicing was all we were allowed before one of the catapults, and several more of our men, were obliterated by a searing ball of flame. Cullen sounded the retreat back inside the walls.  
  
In vain, we attempted to save some of the villagers on our way to the chantry. The screams as they were burned alive or cut down would haunt me later. Seeking a brief refuge within the large, stone structure, we did not have much time to make a plan.  
  
It was the boy, Cole I would learn there, and Chancellor Roderick who were the saviors of so many. With the former templar ahead of them, the survivors in the chantry escaped through a little-known passage.  
  
I turned to leave the other way, down to my likely death in order to save the others. Stepping back into the night air, the sound of the heavy door closing behind me was delayed. Saddened, but glad to not be alone, I saw that Cassandra, Dorian, and Iron Bull had decided to join me.  
  
"C'mon, boss. Hope you didn't think I'd let you have all the fun." growled the low voice of the qunari.  
  
To avoid choking up, I merely nodded with a last glance at Dorian. Oh, how the night could have been so different...  
  
  
The three of them kept the horrifically disfigured red templars off of me as I aimed the last catapult until a great roar pierced the sky. Having screamed for my friends to run, I was too late to follow.

My memories of the next several minutes would only come to me in pieces later. The face of this Elder One, the stench of his mount's breath as it hissed above me.  
His expressed desire for...the anchor? Yes, the mark on my palm. And the rumbling of the top of the mountain crashing down to bury Haven beneath the stone and snow.

 

Next I knew...I awoke freezing and in the dark. But alive.


End file.
